


i miss you, i’m sorry

by taylocrow



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern AU, Relationship Abuse, abuse alluded to, normal people au kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylocrow/pseuds/taylocrow
Summary: I don’t want to go, think I’ll make it worse. Everything I do leads me back to us.He’s got to save her.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	i miss you, i’m sorry

**Author's Note:**

> please heed warnings for tw!! (abuse)

Red. 

Her hair was red, her fingernails red, and her eyes were made red too. By the words he couldn’t say, tangled and caught at the back of his throat. Sansa Stark lays naked beside him, both of them covered in a sheen of sweat and sex, and tears fight to escape her eyes. 

Jon bites his cheek and glares at his ceiling, feels her scoot a little further away, and tries to think of what she needs. A few more painful moments stretch on until she abruptly sits up. Sansa’s long hair falls down her back and she reaches for her clothes. 

“Sansa,” He says but nothing follows. 

She turns to stare at him, appalled almost, and then when he doesn’t add anything on to her name, she’s back to redressing. Jon props himself up on his elbows and frowns, “Don’t go.” 

“Why not? What else is there to say?” She throws her shirt on and turns to glare at him icily. 

“We’ll be apart.” Jon explains weakly and she only sets her jaw. 

“People do long distance, Jon.” Tears cloud her eyes again, “Ever heard of Skype?” 

Jon rubs at his jaw, “Are you saying you want to skype?” 

Sansa stares him down silently, and he feels his insides grow cold at the sight of her face hardening, “No, forget it. You already said what you meant.” 

All he had said was that they’d both be off to school in the next few weeks. He hadn’t said he wanted to stop. He didn’t say he wanted to stay together either. 

Ever since he knew they’d be living apart, a nagging feeling that had been in the back of his mind the whole time became a loud screech in the forefront of his mind. She’s better off without him, there’s better guys for her, someone who can love her and teach her things. 

Jon opens and closes his mouth twice before shutting his lips in a firm line. She’s angry, and there’s no use trying to backpedal. If she wanted to be together then she’d call him when she calmed down. Jon knew better than to try to break everything down and retrace his thinking steps. Sansa claimed she could read him like a book, and every other time she’d proven that right. 

But when she rose to her feet and left with a grim, “Goodbye, Jon.” Jon felt defeated that her power hadn’t shone through yet relieved that he could finally hurt over her. 

-

University sucks. Jon doesn’t know anybody, his roommate is a jerk, and he doesn’t have a clue what to major in. He’s aimless and lost. Every red headed girl that passes him by feels like a kick to the gut. 

It takes him two weeks to realize he’s got to just pick a major and pour all of himself into it to keep from drowning. Or else he’d end up back home in Winterfell. Neither of which would work. 

So he chooses Pre-Med and buckles in, eager for the long hours and late labs. He’s incredibly successful and it almost makes him proud. Almost. 

When he goes home for Christmas break, he avoids all the restaurants they ate at. Jon doesn’t speak to Sansa’s older brother, Robb, who he played soccer with in high school. In fact, he ditches the pub he’s at the moment he spots the infamous Stark auburn locks. He keeps his head down for the rest of break and buys his mom a gardening set for the holiday. She gifts him a camera and makes him promise to document all of his school adventures. 

He doesn’t have the heart to tell her it’d only be pictures of textbooks and chemistry equations. 

-

The first time he sees her since she left his bedroom is almost a year to the day. It’s late August, and Jon is out at a shop grabbing groceries for his mom. Sansa is humming along to music playing through her headphones. She’s wearing a pale pink sundress that makes her look both sophisticated and carefree. All of her hair is put up in a series of complicated but beautiful looking braids. He feels like screaming. 

They catch eyes and Jon flinches. Sansa jerks an earbud out, “Jon?” 

“Hi, uh, hello Sansa.” Jon pushes his cart forward and smiles, “You look well.” 

“As do you.” Her lips widen into a breathtaking smile. “How are you?” 

“Good, um, really good. It’s uh...really good to see you.” Jon stumbles and feels his cheeks grow hot. Sansa laughs but not cruelly, he can tell by the crinkles in her nose. 

“You too, Jon.” Sansa points down at her basket, “Best get going so I can make dinner on time. Great to see you.”

Jon smiles earnestly and nods in agreeance. “Of course.”

Sansa does a little wave and begins to walk away. That’s when Jon says her name once more, he wasn’t even fully aware it happened until she turned on her heel and looked at him expectantly. “Yes?” 

“Are you free tomorrow?” Jon asks before he can think about his words too much. Sansa doesn’t look surprised in the least but she furrows her brow thoughtfully, “Ah, tomorrow I’ll be out with my boyfriend.” 

He feels his face fall and tries to disguise it by faking a cough. She switches holding the basket with her left hand to her right and smiles softly, “The day after though?” 

“Oh?” Jon’s cheeks are as hot as ever, “Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. You, um, you have my number, yeah?” 

Sansa crinkles her nose again, “Yeah Jon, I have your number.” 

Jon swallows, “Great. Talk to you later then.”

“Sure.” She messes with the back of her hair and begins to step away. Jon does a humiliating and awkward bow before completely ditching his shopping cart and running out to his car. 

He orders pizza once he pulls up to his home without all the groceries. 

-

They sit side by side on the metal bleachers where she used to cheer him and her brother on during soccer. Between them rests a plate of treats she baked and two coffees Jon purchased. She no longer likes three sugars and cream. Jon tried not to frown when she admitted to regularly sipping black cold brew nowadays. 

“Well, now you know for next time.” Sansa says jokingly. Or maybe not. Jon tries not to think too much on it and just enjoys being beside her once again. He’d forgotten why he’d been studying so hard to begin with, and any time he hears her musical laughter or sees the way she chews her lip as she thinks, he remembers why it’d been such a tough school year. 

“You’re well, yeah?” Jon pretends like he doesn’t keep up with her Facebook. 

Sansa nods, “Sure. Majoring in communications and planning to study abroad next year. I’m on a debate team and played some club tennis.” 

It’s everything he imagined for her. 

He stares off at the empty field and tries to remember what she looked like clapping from the stands. All he can think of is the way she’d whimper his name. 

Jon clears his throat and smirks, “That’s really awesome.” 

“Pre-med though? That’s something to write home about.” Sansa kicks at his shin and his breath catches. He wipes at his nose and chuckles uncomfortably. “Um, I guess so. Yeah.” 

“Your mom must be so proud.” Sansa seems wistful and he has to look away once again. 

“Yeah, she is.” Jon kicks his toe at the bleacher beneath their feet. “Your parents as well. You’ve got a laundry list of accomplishments there.” 

Sansa shrugs and pulls out a sugar cookie. Instead of taking a bite she just holds it by her lips and says, “Yeah, it’s all good.” 

It gains his undivided attention, he senses the undeniable ache in her tone. Jon reaches for a cookie himself, just for something to do if anything, and thanks her politely for it. When he takes a bite he has to fight off a delighted moan. “These are amazing San, holy shit.” 

_ San. _ An old nickname, a slip of the tongue, a moment of familiarity. His eyes blow wide in panic and sees the same expression cross her own features. A crack in the surface of whatever it is they’re currently doing. It shakes them both up a bit and he feels himself wrestling with the ability to recover. 

“Thank you.” She says it so gratefully that he almost thinks he can hear hurt behind it. He chews the rest of the cookie and wipes his hands on his jeans. 

The cookie she’d had to her lips is now gone, but he hadn’t seen her eat it. 

“How long are you around for?” Jon asks and she looks longingly at the green grass. 

“Another two weeks.” She answers simply and Jon feels hopeful, for what he’s unsure, but the answer is satisfying nonetheless. 

Jon looks at her straight on, something she used to always bug him about, how intimidating his undivided attention could be. He watches her hold still under his gaze, “Can I see you again?” 

She chews her lip again and he’s tempted to beg. “Sure, we’ll see.” 

It’s more than enough for him. 

-

They meet up again three days later for lunch. Together they both order grilled cheeses with fries and a dill pickle on the side. It makes them laugh and Jon feels warm. They talk about their studies and summer. Everything but. 

“So who is this boyfriend?” Jon already knows.

“Joffrey.” Sansa picks at her fries, “Met him at school.” 

“How?” Jon likes the torture apparently. 

Sansa shrugs, “Same circle of friends.” She takes a long sip of her water and avoids his eyes. 

Jon decides to remain silent until she’s comfortable once again. She seems grateful for the quiet and finally speaks up a few moments later to ask him, “Are you seeing anybody?” 

“Sorta. Not really.” It’s Jon’s turn to fidget. 

Her name is Ygritte and she’s his lab partner in organic chemistry. She has bright orange hair and a loud laugh but fierce determination. She’d been the one to ask him out on their first date. They fucked when they could and studied when they weren’t between the sheets. He couldn’t tell anyone her parent’s names or her favorite color. 

Sansa straightens her back up and quirks an eyebrow. He’s in trouble. “Oh?” 

“Oh?” He mocks her and she throws her head back in laughter, which only makes him join in helplessly. 

“What’s her name?” Sansa chews slowly on a fry and eyes him up and down. 

Jon rolls his eyes, “Ygritte.” 

“Ygritte.” Sansa repeats it as if she’s trying it on. She thoughtfully continues chewing a few more fries and when she doesn’t press anymore Jon is both relieved and disappointed. 

They quickly shift back to safer topics and finish the lunch with sore cheeks from grinning. 

-

_ See you at 11 xx _

Jon shows up at the club he hasn’t frequented since school and tries to shake his hands out to keep them from trembling. He’s thirty minutes early and heads up to the bar for a beer. It’s there that he sees Sansa’s best friend since grade school, Margaery. Her sleek blonde hair pinned back to display her elegant neck. She looks as beautiful as ever. 

Jon smiles at her when she calls his name joyfully and throws her arms around him. Margaery has always been a fun girl and honestly, Jon quite likes her. He puts in an order for a beer and Margaery skips the small talk to say, “Sansa’s coming.” 

Without thinking he replies, “I know.” 

Margaery doesn’t miss a thing and she purses her lips playfully and smirks, “Oh? You do?” 

Jon blushes and scratches at the back of his neck. He’s always been an easy target for her. When he doesn’t say anything Margaery prods, “Have you met the boyfriend?” 

Jon shakes his head, “Ah, no. I just ran into her about a week ago.”

“Hm,” Margaery comments delicately, “Well have you heard anything about him?” 

Always the gossip. Jon fights the urge to roll his eyes and instead shakes his head and shrugs, “Nah, just his name.” 

Her eyes practically glisten and she leans in, “Have you heard the things he’s gotten her into?” 

Jon pulls his eyebrows together to shoot her a look and Margaery doesn’t let up. “Oh, he’s got her into all kinds of kinky shit. Hitting and tying up. She’s gotten into trouble for stealing from her parents and got a drug arrest plus the DUI a month or two ago. But we know Sansa would never do a thing, it’s got to be him.” 

There’s a thickness in the air and the club lights swirl around them, music blares through his ears but he doesn’t hear a thing over the rushing of his blood. “Margaery.” 

She leans in, “She had all these marks on her wrists!” Margaery giggles scandalously, “Did you start her up with all that Jonny boy?” 

Jon doesn’t take the beer the bartender slides to him and throws the cash onto the bar top forcefully. “Fuck off, Marg.” 

She jumps at his response and he has to get the fuck out of there before he punches something or someone. He pushes through the crowd until he hits the sticky summer air with a gasp. Margaery’s words dance around his head and make it hard to breathe. The distant thump of the electronic music matches his irregular heart, and he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. 

He brings one up to his lips and takes a deep inhale as he sorts through his feelings. There’s no jealousy or anger, he can only assume what he feels is pain and sorrow. It used to be that sneaking out was the worst thing she’d ever done. She used to like it when he looked in her eyes and said how lovely she was as he….but that was cream and sugar Sansa, not cold brew. 

He didn’t know her anymore. 

“Jon?” Her voice is quiet from a few feet down the sidewalk and he jerks his head towards it as if he’s been caught. At what, he isn’t sure, but he feels guilty nonetheless. 

Sansa is in a sheer, sparkly black dress that brags about her slim figure. She looks incredible even in the dark of the night. She stretches out a hand and wiggles her fingers expectantly. 

“Since when do you smoke?” Jon cuts his eyes towards her and she shrugs, still keeping her hand outstretched. Jon passes her a cigarette wordlessly and holds out the lighter so she can lean into it. The fire illuminates her face for the most magical second, but it’s gone just as fast. 

Sansa takes a deep puff and shakes the ashes afterwards, she’s been smoking. This isn’t a new thing or a once in a while habit. Jon isn’t angry but just further surprised. “I don’t know you.” He admits sullenly. 

She quirks an eyebrow and brings the cigarette back to her lips, “Kinda gave that up willingly, didn’t you?” 

It hurts but it’s true. Jon smokes instead of answering and shuffles between his feet before he can gather the nerve to look at her again. “Are you doing okay, truly?” 

“Truly?” Sansa’s tone is teasing and a frustration blooms in his chest at the sound of it. 

“I saw Margaery in there.” Jon blurts and Sansa narrows her eyes in response. 

“What’d she say?” Sansa is now acidic and sharp as she speaks and Jon is tempted to back off. But he sees the dozens of bracelets at the end of her wrists and knows he needs to push forward. He has to know if she’s alright. 

“Nothing too nice about your boyfriend,” Jon tries to keep from sounding childish but she visibly grows irritated anyway. She huffs and takes another drag. 

“Margaery wanted him and he didn’t want her so now she’s bitter.” Sansa blows the smoke right towards Jon’s face. “People who pretend to care the most are the first to throw knives.” 

Jon’s face is incredulous, “She’s your best friend!”

Sansa merely finishes off her cigarette and tosses it to the ground to stomp it out. “I’m guessing this club idea is over?” 

Jon blinks slowly before nodding and opening his mouth to invite her for a late night pizza slice. Sansa chuckles without any humor and says, “Well this was fun.” 

“Sansa,” he starts but knows inviting her for food would sound stupid. So he adds, “I’m glad I’ve gotten to see you.” 

“You’re probably the only one.” She smiles without it meeting her eyes and Jon feels a knot bloom in his stomach. As she turns and walks away, he knows that while Margaery’s gossip may not all be exact, there’s enough truth to it for Sansa to avoid. 

“Let me call you a cab!” Jon shouts after her but she only returns to the line to get into the club. 

Jon heads home and they don’t speak for the rest of the week they’re both at home. He tries and fails to compose a meaningful or light text. So instead he does chores for his mom to get the house straight before returning to university. 

-

A week into school there’s a text in his inbox from Ygritte. 

_ Come over I have wine.  _

Jon reads it twice and doesn’t reply. Instead he pulls up a new message and addresses it to Sansa. 

_ Good luck this semester. Let me know if you ever need anything.  _

He doesn’t reply to Ygritte that night and instead goes over his class notes. It isn’t until another few days before Sansa’s name lights up his phone with a notification. 

_ You as well Jon. _

They don’t stop texting after that. Each day they tell one another about what shows they’re watching, what classes have taught them, and Sansa tells him all about her debate team. It turns into phone calls which turn into FaceTime. 

Jon could stare at her forever. 

Red, red, red. 

Red is her hair, red is the paint on her fingernails, red are the marks on her wrists and the rim of her eyes. 


End file.
